


This Space, Our Place

by HeddersTheOwl



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29939772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeddersTheOwl/pseuds/HeddersTheOwl
Summary: “Which one is Alpha Centauri?” Aziraphale said quietly.Crowley waved a hand lazily at the ceiling, and the projection swirled towards the right set of stars.“It looks lovely.” Aziraphale said, and a note of sadness in his voice had Crowley turn his head to look at him.Aziraphale and Crowley have a date at a Planitarium, and think about their choices
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	This Space, Our Place

**Author's Note:**

> I found this in my drafts folder and decided just to post it. A little introspective, a little mushy, a lot of banter.

They sat reclined in the planetarium, looking up at the swirling stars projected onto the ceiling. They would have gazed at the real stars, but it was 2 in the afternoon, and the recliners here were far more comfortable. The usual group of OAPs that spent afternoons in the museum had amazingly all been visited by their grandchildren just as they had been about to go out - especially surprising to the ones who didn’t have any grandchildren, prior to this morning.

“Which one is Alpha Centauri?” Aziraphale said quietly.

Crowley waved a hand lazily at the ceiling, and the projection swirled towards the right set of stars. 

“It looks lovely.” Aziraphale said, and a note of sadness in his voice had Crowley turn his head to look at him.

“Yeah? Planning a vacation then?”

A weak smile graced his face for a moment, then sank back into a kind of longing.

“I am sorry, Crowley. I should have gone with you when you offered. I was wrong to trust Heaven.”

Crowley shook his head and propped himself on his elbow.

“It wouldn’t have worked. I was trying to run away from the problem, you never would have been happy up there. You’d get bored of me.” He held up a hand when Aziraphale opened his mouth to protest. “This isn’t self-deprecation, I wouldn’t have been happy either. Remember what I said about eternity? Without anything new, or interesting, or human, to keep us going? We’d have driven each other up the wall before the Apocalypse had even started.”

Aziraphale thought for a moment, then said:

“There wouldn’t be any walls, in space.”

“You’re proving my point here, you’re very irritating, imagine having to spend eternity with such a nitpicky bastard.” Crowley said, with a grin.

It was taken (as intended) as witty reparté, but then their chuckles faded as they looked at each other, and softened into fond smiles.

“It wouldn’t be so bad, would it. Not the whole time, I mean.” Aziraphale said.

“No, I suppose not. Until you started banging on about Keats or something.” 

Crowley settled back into his chair with a smirk after catching Aziraphale’s impressive eye roll. They watched the constellations get drawn across the projected sky, Orion, Ursa Major, the one that looks like a frying pan. Aziraphale was about to suggest heading to the cafe, when Crowley blurted out:

“I’m glad you didn’t kill him.”

“What?” 

Crowley was staring hard up at the supposed tip of a sword drawn in the sky.

“Adam. I’m glad you didn’t, you know.” He drew a finger along his own neck and made a crrk noise. “Or, I first suggested it when we thought it was the Warlock boy didn’t I? Satan, can you imagine what a shit show that would have been?”

He laughed humorlessly. Aziraphale stared at him.

“But I did try to kill Adam. I pointed the gun right at him and fired. Madam Tracy pushed it away.”

“Well, yes, but if you really meant to you could have overpowered her, couldn’t you?” 

He turned his head and raised his eyebrows at Aziraphale until he conceded the point with an incline of the head.

“And,” Crowley went on, “you could have killed Warlock any time too with your own power. I told you to, even. I’m glad you didn’t.”

“I have wondered, with Adam - why didn’t you do it, Crowley? You already wanted to cut ties with Hell at that point, why not, well ‘crrk’ as you put it? I mean - I’m glad you didn’t either, but...”

Crowley sighed and stretched his hands behind his head.

“Honestly? I don’t think I could have lived with myself if I did. He’s a kid isn’t he? He doesn’t deserve to die just because we - Hell and Heaven that is - put that Antichrist stuff on him. Plus, I...” Crowley trailed off.

Aziraphale put a hand on Crowley’s, and Crowley held onto it tightly, not looking at him. His whole body had gone extremely tense.

“It’s alright, my dear. Whatever you say, I will accept you.” Aziraphale said gently.

He stroked his thumb across Crowley’s knuckles and smiled softly when Crowley met his gaze. Crowley searched his eyes for a second urgently, then closed his eyes and breathed along with Aziraphale’s deliberate, calming, in-and-out. Patience, luckily, is one of the angel’s strong suits.

“I was afraid,” Crowley said finally, quietly, “I was afraid that I would like it. I’d be what they wanted me to be. Evil. Violent. I didn’t want to prove them all right.”

He clutched Aziraphale’s hand even tighter, and opened his eyes, almost daring him to let go. Aziraphale let out a soft laugh, and drew his free hand to try to stifle it when Crowley’s eyebrows shot up, but that seemed to make it worse. Crowley glared and tried to pull his hand away, pissed.

“Well I’m glad my suffering is amusing to you, here I am pouring my heart out and you -”

“Sorry!” Aziraphale patted his other hand over Crowley’s, still giggling through his words. “I am so sorry my dear boy, I don’t mean to laugh at you, it’s not funny at all, it’s just that, that’s exactly the reason I didn’t want to do it either.”

Crowley stopped trying to tug away, but gave Aziraphale extreme side-eye.

“Oh, yeah, Heaven was really big on being irredeemably evil, my mistake.” He said sarcastically.

“They wouldn’t call it that, no, but they did want me to be that way. ‘Righteous’ violence is still violence, even if it’s, well, ‘giving weight to a moral argument’. ” 

Aziraphale elbowed him conspiratorially and Crowley rolled his eyes, but gestured him to go on. 

“There can be a place for violence against violence, but that's for humans to figure out. We're immortal, it's not right for us to take that choice from them when they can't fight back. Gabriel, Heaven, they wanted me to only be good to the people they felt deserved it, and punish everyone else. God only ever asked me to be good to people.”

“She did give you a flaming sword.” Crowley pointed out, churlishly. “Besides - suppose you knew for sure all that lot were right and She definitely wants you to do something like that, would you do it? Kill a child? Hurt someone?"

“I…" Aziarphale paused for a long while, thinking.

"I don't know. I hope I wouldn’t. I really, really hope I wouldn’t. If I hadn’t met you...well, maybe I would have.” Aziraphale said sadly. The facetiousness in Crowley flipped immediately to protectiveness.

“Come off it angel, you gave that sword to the humans before we’d even said a word to each other! You don’t need anyone to tell you right from wrong. You’re -”

“Yes?” Aziraphale interrupted, a little too eagerly. Crowley eyed him suspiciously.

“...you’re fishing for compliments, aren't you?" he realised, confirmed by Aziraphale's shuffling.

"No."

"You are! I see that woe is me routine, it's been about a hundred years since you doubted your own moral fortitude. You bastard!" 

Crowley was laughing, amazed as he was in Eden at the sheer nerve of this angel.

"Honestly Crowley,” Aziraphale said with mock affront, “I cannot believe you would laugh at me as I pour out my heart like this."

"Oh yes, woe is you for sure. You're evil as they come, you'd step on Sister Slug as soon as look at her."

"I would never!"

"Ah ha! So you do know already that you're very good."

"Ahhh." Aziraphale beamed and fluttered his eyelashes demurely "Do you really think so? Well how kind of you to say, you sweet thing."

He managed to hold Crowley’s incredulous gaze for almost half a minute before their humour ran over, their wheezing laughter overcoming any sense of decorum from either side. There was no attempt to be pretty about it; snorts and hiccups abound. When they recovered, Crowley stretched and put his arm over Aziraphale’s shoulders, which was wiggled into delightedly.

“I was getting pretty maudlin there, wasn’t I?” Crowley said. “Thanks for getting me out of it.”

“No trouble, my love. If you ever want to shower me with compliments, do feel free.” 

Crowley gave him a kiss on the cheek for that, eliciting another, much softer, giggle.

They may not have always made the right choices, but chosing each other was not something they ever had cause to regret.


End file.
